It is true that streets take us to so many places, and also to nowhere. Some of these are called blind alleys where there is no light beyond, but they echo of shoes beating the pavement.

They are our footsteps that take us there more or less quickly with inexorable progress. It is in these large corridors that we will encounter what will be our life's destiny.

Along the way, and without a reason, we may hug a tree, and as we place our arms around it, we will experience a positive current of regenerating energy that feels like the discovery of another world made of curiosity, enchantment, magic and wonder.

Trees, in reality, are divine creatures that do not betray, do not hate. Trees radiate only happiness, harmony and love.

I can't seem to understand where I am precisely. It seems as though I have been catapulted in this place with all these people organized in groups involved in discussions and activities.

I am unable to grasp the moment. There is me, a bit dazed, feeling I should be doing something but cannot think quite what.

So I make the rounds of the groups: the place is nice, large, wide open floor, some tables, chairs and benches, a perfect place for a reunion of sort with many invitees.

It is taking me a while to recognize all the people, and I realize that even if I don't know all of them well, they all smile and treat me with friendliness.

But then I ask myself…why are we all here? I look beyond the groups, there is a wall, and in this wall a small door that I need to get down on my knees to get through.

It is dark beyond this door and I feel disoriented… I am up and thinking 'be careful or you'll fall down' _

I find me being on a road along a sidewalk that flanks a way completely uphill…so steep to cause fear. Then I think it seems the way up next to my old house, but it really isn't…I don't recognize the neighborhood.

It is late at night and I see a group of people talking…they are around an automobile: a really nice car gray as the barrel of a rifle…it looks like my car. I draw near hoping to talk to these people and touch the car, so as to make some sense of what is going on.

I see a known face in the group smiling and friendly as usual, we say hello. I keep getting closer…the car surrounded by the group is my car…and I have absolutely no idea why it is parked there. Maybe I put it there and then left it for some reason? Why?

I look at the group of people and realize I know them all…we all belong together in this place with a common interest and happy to reunite. They all ask me how I am, if I am happy, in good health, they talk of camaraderie and respect for one another…

I suddenly realize it feels like when you awaken after having had too much to drink the night before...but not quite.

I begin to feel infinite sadness as I talk with all these friends I hadn't seen for a while.

They all go politely quiet and listen to me without interruption…

As that terrible memory assails me…I want to cry but feel it would be an imposition…I feel I can no longer be serene in my life…

I continue at non understanding what is happening…I would like to go back to my past, where things were of happiness and peace…but then I realize I don't have the strength to return to the road where my past is, making that trip in the dark and full of ugly obstacles that I can't even see...but remember well.

I am thinking I don't even wish to be here anymore where all seem to be false and useless…finally I am gone…

It's inevitable_there is sadness, nostalgia, and regrets in revoking the past, in this searching the signs of people and things that were once familiar and no longer exist.

It is a remembrance of lost youth, proud dreams vanished _ flaring passions extinguished , road friends forever dispersed, radiant myths fallen to obscurity_ wounds healed that cannot or want not to be erased.

I look for some familiar face but I am delusional_

Ambiance, habits and customs change_ even the aspects of persons…the women have become slim and elegant _Dull are the stars with the pale moonbeam _A wounded, hopeless heart passes here.

At times I imagine hearing old friends talk out loud and laugh round midnight as we headed to a pizzeria's last call. A hornet's nest of souls, sounds, shouts and noises_ all so welcome thru the night _even as companions to sleep_ obliterating bad dreams.